This is where I thought I'd unveil a photo of our first (and only) big home improvement project of 2014. Our house has an existing 10 x 10 patio outside the back door. So we're expanding it into something much bigger. Our concrete guy said he was planning to pour this week. But alas, his supplier won't be available until next week. So you'll have to come back next Friday to see a picture. This was actually going to be an end-of-2013 project, but our homeowners association didn't approve the plans until after the holidays.
Our concrete guy is seriously old school, and that helped keep the costs down. He doesn't even use email and had to snail mail the estimate to us after taking measurements of our back yard. Interestingly, one of the other contractors who gave us an estimate was a former Major League Baseball pitcher who now runs a construction company. His estimate seemed outrageously high. As my wife described it, he wanted to charge us major league money for our minor league yard.
I'd love to know more about the science of traffic. Why does it take so much time for the traffic flow on a highway to recover after an accident? I've been on the job in the same workplace for the last two years, and on Tuesday of this week I set a new personal record for the slowest morning commute. My 22-mile drive took one hour and 45 minutes (about an hour or more longer than usual for this time of year). There was an accident blocking one lane of traffic several miles ahead. The scene was cleared long before I got up to it, but the traffic flow never seemed to recover.
You'd think an introvert would be happy to skip a lot of hand shaking in a crowded room. But actually I felt kind of lonely during Mass last Sunday when it was time to offer the sign of peace. You see, in addition to the temporary flu-prevention measures that our church is taking (as I mentioned last week), we've also been asked to not shake hands during the sign of peace when serving as an extraoridnary minister of holy communion which I was that day. It felt awkward to keep my hands clasped while everyone else was shaking hands, like I was getting cheated out of peace.
My feelings about glitter are starting to affect my family life, sort of. I already mentioned in Quick Takes right after Christmas how I feel about glittery holiday cards. Well now my 7-year-old daughter has a little notebook that's completely covered in glitter on the front and back cover. It's been on our kitchen table a lot lately, and I think the tablecloth is now permanently engraned with specks of loose glitter. One day when I used a paper towel like a potholder to move the glittery book out of the way, my daughter said, "Daddy, why do you have glitter phobia?"
I think the pizza restaurant where we ate on Saturday night made a little mistake on the front window:
I'd love to have a little divine intervention if I played football. I was looking through the catalog of Catholic schools in our diocese, and one school included this photo:
I wonder if she calls all the plays?
For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary.